


You and Tequila

by Hairofgoldeyesofblue



Series: Under the Influence [2]
Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: 4th of July, Childhood, F/M, First Kiss, Memories, New York City, Summer, Tequila
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 21:27:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1956741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hairofgoldeyesofblue/pseuds/Hairofgoldeyesofblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little bit late 4th of July oneshot in which Mackenzie gets a little drunk and nostalgic. </p><p>Set during "The 112th Congress." This fic is a sequel to 'Blame it on the Alcohol,' but you do not need to have read that first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You and Tequila

**Author's Note:**

> So, this fic came to me in the midst of a margarita on the 4th of July. (Good times.) Title comes from the Kenny Chesney and Grace Potter song.

In her childhood years, Mackenzie had always loved the summer. As much as she had loved school, summer meant she was allowed to accompany her father on trips – not _vacations_ , because there was always work to be done. She’d sit in the corner of his meetings with Prime Ministers or Presidents or Ambassadors and pretend to take notes like the assistants did until she got to be old enough to explore the city by herself.

Being embedded in the Middle East changed her perspective. She longed for temperatures that were below eighty degrees and nights where sleeping on top of her cot, wearing little more than a tank top and underwear wasn’t tempting. Mackenzie was pretty sure she had sweat off at least ten pounds in her first two months, and she spent long, hot rides through the desert reminiscing with Jim about the beauty of snow and ice.

By the time she landed back in the United States, she only had a couple months of glorious, long-awaited cooler weather before the hot New York City summer had thrust itself upon her. As much as she had come to despise the heat over the past several years, she did enjoy summer in the city. She had fond memories of barbecues and walks in Central Park with Will, and trips to Coney Island and the beach as a young girl. The 4th of July rolled around, and the staff started cajoling her to attend Tamara’s annual bash. She had always loved the holiday – even if she gained some flack for it from her classmates back in England.

That was how she found herself squeezed into a plastic reclining chair with Sloan on the roof of Tess’ riverside building in Hoboken on a Sunday night. She had dressed for the muggy night in a breezy white top, denim shorts that only Jim had ever seen her wear, and a pair of wedge sandals she’d bought on a whim the day before. Gary was manning the grill, and Maggie had brought a German potato salad – which was apparently an old family recipe – and Tess had provided drinks. It was _nice_ and Mackenzie couldn’t help but look around and smile fondly at her little News Family.

Mackenzie was halfway through a margarita, when she started to feel pleasantly drunk. Usually, she could hold her liquor – being embedded had only helped – but on this particular night, the tequila had gone straight to her head. The fireworks had started when she dropped her head onto Sloan’s shoulder and sighed happily. Sloan took one look at her too-wide-to-be-sober grin and started laughing.

“ _Kenzie_ , you’re _drunk_!”

Mackenzie shook her head a little too forcefully and stubbornly said, “No, I’m _not._ ”

Sloan rolled her eyes. “Fine, get up and walk in a straight line then.”

Mackenzie made a movement  as if she were actually going to attempt it, and then thought better of it; tipping her head so her hair fell to cover her face. “I _can’t_ ,” she said, taking more time than was normally necessary to sound out the consonants. She started giggling. “Okay, maybe I am a little drunk.”

“Just a little,” Sloan agreed with a snort.

“You can’t tell _anyone_ though. _Promise_?”

“Fine.”

“This is _ridiculous_ ,” Mackenzie moaned as she swirled around the ice in her now-empty plastic cup. “I’m a _journalist_. I don’t get _drunk_.”

The other woman gently rubbed her back gently, trying to hide her amusement. “You’ve had a rough couple months, Kenzie. You’re allowed.”

Mackenzie wasn’t really listening to her though. She had a far-off look in her eyes as she chewed her bottom lip contemplatively. “This one time, I got drunk at a bar after a really bad show, and Will walked in and saw me and pulled me down off the bar – I was dancing on the bar with one of the other senior staffers, did I say that?.. Anyway, he got me down and took me home in a cab. And he was being so nice to me, and I had just gotten dumped, so I kissed him. It was the first time I kissed him; I think it surprised him, but I knew he had a crush on me, so I did it. It was a _good_ kiss. He wouldn’t come inside that night, but two days later he asked me out to dinner. You know, on our first 4 th of July together, I took him to Coney Island. He’d been a prosecutor in Brooklyn, and he’d never been before, can you believe that?” – she sighed – “And this year he’s probably in the Hamptons with some cheerleader…”

Sloan pulled her in for a hug. “Don’t worry, about Will. He’ll come around…eventually…hopefully.”

Mackenzie stared down wistfully at her lap and picked at a frayed thread on the edge of her shorts before saying seriously, “It’s really a shame he doesn’t like me anymore. If had come to the party, he wouldn’t be able to resist me. My legs look _good_ tonight.”

Sloan started laughing and shook her head, reaching over to take her friend’s cup. “…And with that, I’m cutting you off. Let’s just watch the fireworks and then I’ll get you home, Okay?”

Mackenzie nodded and stared up hazily at the bright colors bursting in the sky. “I always loved the 4th of July...” she said dreamily.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
